ng that I never
noticed the party at all; although they walked by, only a few feet away,
passing directly between me and the keeper. This is the story as I get it
first hand, from the Warden himself.

It seems that some newspaper men from New York were in town to-day and
were most anxious to see Tom Brown at work. The strict order that
everything at the prison was to go on exactly as usual forbade their
interviewing me, or even having me pointed out; but there was nothing to
prevent their being shown over the prison in the ordinary way. The Warden,
who had returned from Albany, thinking he would like to take the
opportunity of himself seeing his "new boarder" at work, offered to
conduct them. So down through the yard they all came and in due course
reached the basket-shop.

"This is the place where Tom Brown is working," remarked the Warden; "but,
gentlemen, please remember you are not to speak to him or even seem to
give him special notice."

So they entered the shop and leisurely made their way through; the Warden
exchanging a word or two with the Captain as he went by, and all of them
looking curiously at the various basket-makers within sight.

After they had passed out of the shop at the farther end, one of the
visitors said,

"But, Warden, I didn't see him."

"Neither did we," chimed in the rest.

"Well, gentlemen," laughed the Warden, "this is certainly one on me; for I
looked everywhere and I couldn't find him myself."

It was true; the whole party had passed within twenty feet of me, and not
one of them--not even my intimate friend--had recognized me.

"But I'm very sure he's there," continued the Warden; "at any rate I can
verify it at my office."

So they returned to the main building and found out, sure enough, that
Thomas Brown was duly registered in the basket-shop.

Two of the visitors insisted upon returning; they had known me very well
by sight and were sure they could find me out. So back they came to the
shop, and this time I noticed them.

"I wonder who those guys are, rubbering around?" is my remark to Murphy,
speaking in the vernacular, as we are working away. I was taking good
care not to stare hard at them in my turn.

"They're not looking at you, anyhow," is Murphy's report. I steal another
glance and catch an intent, searching look from one of the visitors. I am
just finishing off a basket bottom and have on eyeglasses of unusual
shape--rather too fine for Tom Brown. I fear that